Shining Star
by RainbowxRose
Summary: Clint and Natasha sit in a dumpy apartment in Budapest on Christmas Day. [Hints of Clint/Natasha]


**Word Count**: 1,037 Words  
**Prompt**: Clint/Natasha - Christmas in Budapest  
**For**: AdventChallenge on livejournal.

* * *

They're not allowed to say each other's names. It's damp in the tiny apartment that they're sharing for their mission. Mold climbs on the walls and the windows are too dark to see through, covered in grime that neither Natasha nor Clint felt like touching. Natasha sits in the corner, her legs in front of her, papers spread out on her legs. Her gun is loaded, resting right next to her hip because she knows that she can grab it and have it pointing at somebody before they can even get close to her. Clint is sitting closer to the door, head leaning back, fingers crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. His breath is coming slowly but she knows that he's not really sleeping. They don't sleep on missions.

There's a tiny Christmas tree with sparkling lights in the corner of the room. It barely comes up to Natasha's knee but Clint had insisted on it. Natasha didn't celebrate Christmas or any holidays. She had never had any reason to or anybody to celebrate with. When she had told Clint that, he had rolled his eyes, telling her that now she did and he liked having a Christmas tree. The star is small, made of aluminum foil and colored on with a sharpie by Clint.

After a while, he jerks, having fallen into a sleep for only a moment before forcing himself awake. "You can get some sleep if you need," she offers, knowing that he won't take it. Sleep isn't something that they can afford. It's only three more days and then they'll be going back to headquarters. They'd gone longer on just coffee before.

"Nah," he responds, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes and face. He stands up, shaking himself out and she watches, admiring each lean line in his body. He's perfectly muscled and it's hard for her to look away but she finally manages, picking at the nail on her pinky. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him go over and sit next to the Christmas tree and she can barely hear him humming.

She lets herself sit and listen to him humming for a while, breaking the nail off when she can't get it to cooperate. "We'll be heading home in three days."

"December 28th," Clint responds, poking the star on top of the tree, watching as it tilted but didn't fall and he nodded, satisfied with it. "This mission has been a failure. A week and a half stuck in this apartment, waiting for somebody to come and yet nobody has come."

"We'll look back on this mission I'm sure," Natasha says, looking at one of the grimy windows, letting out a slow breath, seeing it in the cold air. "I know I won't think of my Christmas this way. I'll remember this Christmas as us fighting hoards of bad guys, showing off what we can do. I hate thinking of wasting my Christmas away in this dumpy apartment."

Clint laughs, leaning back against the wall, tangling his fingers together and resting them on his chest. "I think that you and I will remember Budapest very differently then. I like the thought of this, spending Christmas Day with you here. It's nice. We even have a tree. Did you get me a present?"

Natasha tries to glare but she can't manage it and she shakes her head, at least managing not to laugh. "My life has changed a lot since I met you, Clint," she says and it's one of the truest things that she's ever said.

She can tell as he looks at her that he knows what she's trying to say. Thank you is in the air but she can't bring herself to voice it. He stands up again, sitting down, this time next to her and looking over at her. She can see that he wants to respond sarcastically, maybe say 'you're welcome' but she's glad that he doesn't. It's hard enough to force anything out without having him respond in such a way.

They sit in silence again, Clint watching her pick at her nails, his head resting on his shoulder. She has a small pile of books that she can read if she wants, nothing that would involve her enough that she wouldn't hear anybody coming in. It doesn't interest her though and, once her nail is as short as she'll get it, she looks up. Her eyes are drawn to the Christmas tree, the star sparkling in the dim light. "How is that even stuck on there anyway?"

"Duct tape." She looks over at him, seeing that he has his eyes closed again. She watches him until he opens his eyes sleepily, crooking an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Natasha reaches a finger up, shaking slightly. She could face any number of armed men but reaching out and touching somebody made her shake. The irony wasn't lost on her. "I…" she hesitates, her finger sliding across his eyebrow, pushing it down slightly. Her words come out in a rush, before she loses her nerve. "I love you."

He looks at her and she feels like he's looking right through her. She has never bared her soul to anybody the way that she has bared herself to him. She feels naked as he looks at her. Letting out a slow breath, she tilts her head to the side, waiting for his response. Finally, after what seems like so long to her, he smiles. "I know. I love you too."

She opens her mouth, intending on correcting him, on telling him that she really really loves him but she doesn't. She nods. He reaches out, his fingers sliding through hers, resting their entwined fingers on her thigh. Squeezing his hand, she looks over at the tree, feeling when he squeezes her hand back. Perhaps, just perhaps, she will remember spending Christmas with him in Budapest. But she certainly wasn't going to remember the dingy apartment. That, she could do without.

When he squeezes her hand again, she looks up at him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he realizes just how she meant it. She doesn't say anything though and just looks over at the tree.


End file.
